Stupid
by Nathonea
Summary: Vincent Crabbe is considered by most to be stupid, and he has to agree with them. But that doesn't stop him from hating the fact.


Title: "Stupid"  
  
Author: Nathonea  
  
Rating: PG for Angst  
  
Disclaimer: I only own this story. Not the characters or the franchises.  
  
Summary: Vincent Crabbe is considered by most to be stupid, and he has to agree with them. But that doesn't stop him from hating the fact. First Person POV.

* * *

Me? What? He's asking me? A question? I give a grunt, and that seems to satisfy Snape. He doesn't expect more from me.  
  
I'm not exactly what people call smart. Well, that's an understatement if there ever was one. I'm dumb. I can talk an' all, but things like arithmacy questions elude me. So does the memory things that History of Magic takes. And, when I'm hunched over a potion cauldron, I swear I'm allergic. My mind just fuses the things together, and I add the wrong stuff. Later I can go into the Potions dungeon and write all the ingredients down perfectly, but my in class notes-the ones that matter-are full of mistakes.  
  
Most people just say I'm stupid. I guess I am.  
  
I just sorta wish I wasn't.  
  
Well, anyways, my name's Vincent Deidrick Malvolio Crabbe. Draco-he's my best mate and cousin-says it's a miracle that I remember my whole name. He's probably right.  
  
Anyways, I'm in Slytherin. And I'm a pureblood back ten generations. Or is it eighteen?? I can't really remember. My mom is Mr. Malfoy's younger sister, and she's the prettiest person I know. My father is Deidrick Nucisor Vlad Crabbe. He's from Transi...Transilv...somewhere in the east. It has some wicked mountains.  
  
See? I'm stupid. I can't even remember a name of a place.  
  
Draco says I shouldn't worry about it. As long as I'm bigger than Potter and Weasley, he's fine with me. And swing a bat at a bludger. He says brains don't matter to brutes. I wish he'd flush that perfect-grade bloody head down the bloody toilet.  
  
I guess I'm sorta bitter about it.  
  
I wish I was smart.  
  
It's no fair that some people have all the brains. Like Draco. He could pull potions and spells out of his head. Or that mudblood.  
  
But the mudblood's different. She's smart, supernaturally so, but she seems, I dunno, human. Draco just doesn't.  
  
The mudblood-oh, her name's Granger-she's not perfect. Yet she's better that way. Instead of Draco's scarily perfect hair, she has loads of bushy frizz. Sometimes it looks as if she has a dead brown fox around her neck, but then I have to remember its just her hair. It reminds me of what happens when a muggle gets elec...electro...shocked.  
  
Yet despite the fact that she's really quite ugly, she knows everything. I mean, right now in potions, she's raising her hand with the answer. Snape never calls on her, but she still tries. And she doesn't laugh at me when the potion makes me sneeze.  
  
Draco, my partner in this class, won't let me help him brew the potion. It's probably a good thing, but it hurts. Not being smart, I mean. Especially when looking at Draco.  
  
But not the mudblood. It's so blatantly obvious that she's not perfect. I mean, she still has the idea in her head that she can free all the house elfs in Hogwarts, when everyone who has an elf knows that won't happen. She's also head over heels in love with Potter and Weasley, and she can't decide which she likes better.  
  
She has flaws. Draco doesn't.  
  
Draco remarks stuff to me that points out his perfectness. It hurts me when I do that.  
  
Yes, I know I'm stupid, yet he just seems to think it's funny. It hurts, it really does, but when I say something to Draco about it, he just waves his hand at me and rolls his eyes.  
  
I hate being stupid, I HATE it. It's not fair, no matter how I look at it.  
  
Yet I can't do a thing to change it.  
  
But I need to remember the mudblood, 'cause she's not perfect. I know I'll never be as smart as her, yet she's not impossible to view, like Draco. 'Cause she's not perfect.  
  
And I'm not as well.

* * *

AN: Okay, this is a one-shot, as most of you could tell. I just got tired of everyone bashing a character so much, I figured that someone's gotta stand up for him!  
  
Plus, I thought it'd be interesting. I've never written a story like this before, and it was sorta fun. Oh, and everything in this story may not be what JK Rowling thinks, but what Crabbe might've thought. So there might be some discrepancy. Also, I was not trying to write this grammatically correct, because I don't think that Crabbe would think grammatically correct. 


End file.
